The Irish standard., 1887-09-03
The child of peasant yet England's proud
Queen
Has less rank in her heart and less grace in her
mien" DAVIS.
CHAPTER XII.

Within and without Mooreyiew House
the deadest stiffness has reigned since
nightfall. Mrs. Evans rings for the
candles. For fully an hour she has
been watching her daughter behind
..er hand-screen. Miss Evans reclines
in lounge chair. her head resting on
her hand. Her mother had poked the
fire several times, venturing each time
to conjecture that it was likely to freeze
that night: but the young lady seemed
so feel no interest in the question, and
remained silent and mo; ionless. The
candles are brought in, and Mrs. Evans
takes up book, ostensibly for the pur-
pose of reading it; but just as she
has opened it, she lays it down again.
and looks at her daughter as if she had
forgotten the young lady's presence till
that moment.
you must feel fatigued, Jane?'
NO.
you say you met Captain Dawsonr
sYes.'
DO you know, Jane, I think you
ought to tell him about that ring.'
Il intend it.
DO you think he has missed it?'
NO. she has thought of that; but her
gloves were on every time he met her
since. Mamma, don't you think this
is a dull place?'
We'll. no, Jane, 1 think it is plea
SAINT place enough
Il am sick Of it,
We'll. what other place are you think
ing of-Dublin?'
No, not Dublin
Perhaps you are thinking of the Con.
tinent?'
NO. says Miss Evans. leaning back
in her chair, and speaking in calm,
matter.of- fact way; Il was thinking of
Australia-America.'
Oh, yes-Canada,' says Mrs. Evans,
with smile.
Il was not thinking of Canada in
the same matter. of-fact tone. I mean
the United States
Really, Jane, you astonish me- and
Mrs. Evans opened her eyes very wide,
and did look as if she were astonished.
Il met Brian Purcell again to-day
Now Mrs. Evans did not look as
tonished, but absolutely terrified. She
stood up and commenced pacing up and
down the room in a state of misery
which ought to have inspired any
daughter with remorse, but which only
brought smile to the lips of the beauty
in the lounge. chair. Having thus made
her mother quite comfortable, Miss
Evans rose, and, bidding her good
night, retired to her own room.
Having partly undressed, and gone
through some of the mysteries of the
toilette, she threw loose robe around
her, and sat by the fire.
She takes up the train Of thought with
which her brain has been busy all the
evening. Yes-she admits to herself
she could love him as she could love no
other man. Suppose he would fly with
her to that great young nation, of which
he was so enthusiastic an admirer.
With his talents might he not rise to a
height that would satisfy even her am
bition? Or if he did not, would she not
be happier with him under humble
roof than she ever could be with an
other in the lordliest hall? But why
not share that humble home with him
in Ireland? No! she never could. She,
who had already climbed 50 high, and
felt as if her foot were on the necks of
those who tried to keep her downl A
farmers wifel She clenched her hand
as her fancy called up supercilious nod
from certain carriage to the wife of
.one of MIR. Grindem's s tenants 1t was
not to be thought of; yet her thoughts
went back to the old happy time. That
tsf u : n +.